We Float Upon a Painted Sea (33 page)

“What others? I don’t think I quite follow you Itaridlë, I thought we were going to stop this madness together. I thought that I was going to help you and you would help me in return.” Itaridlë raised two hands and put them to the sides of Professor Burke’s head. She meticulously adjusted his round metal spectacles like a concerned mother sending her child off to school. She said,

“Believe me Professor, where we are going is no place for an academic such as yourself. Things are going to turn very nasty and you don’t want to be around when it does. This is a stealth mission and as far I can tell from Lúthien’s and Inwë’s account of your performance back at the Splurge Bucket, in Leith, performing discretion is not really your best mantra.”  

The Professor hung his head and his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He offered an explanation, blaming his antics on the Poitín, but Itaridlë cut him off.

“By all means, go to the St Kilda and do what you have to do, but I can’t see what you are planning to achieve by just turning up at the control site.” The Professor said,

“There is someone on the control site who might be able to help me.”

“What is their name Professor? We can’t help without a name.”

“As I said back at your base, I can’t divulge that information. It would put him in grave danger.”

“So your mole is a male.”

“He’s not a mole, just a concerned human being. I can say no more.”

“Alas Professor Burke, without definite proof that inside help is available and willing to assist we must make our own arrangements.”

“I will find someway of getting to the control site but we must warn others that their lives are in danger.”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you, we’ve had word that they’ve moved the control site to an offshore oil exploration rig. I can give you the grid coordinates. This might be valuable intel for you.” The Professor’s eyelids flickered rapidly but he remained silent and allowed Itaridlë, to continue. She whispered,

“It seems to me that you’ve been kept out of the loop for some time now. This was also evident by you being unaware of the delayed detonation time. You were looking for some news on the wave weren’t you, when you were waiting in the bar?”

“I wasn’t to know it was going to be delayed,” protested Professor Burke, “that could have happened regardless - even if I was in the loop as you put it. All I know is that the detonation was planned on a certain date and obviously they have changed the timing. Perhaps, as you mentioned, it is because the surveillance satellites are down, and they are worried about collateral damage, but it’s still going to happen unless we intervene.”

“And we will intervene, when it happens.”

The Professor bowed his head, shaking it mournfully. He said,

“I see, you have no intention of stopping this atrocity exhibition and are merely planning on making some political capital out of it after the event, after the loss of life.” The idea struck the Professor as wholly unacceptable. “This is not what I had in mind…” he began, stumbling over his sentence. Itaridlë, ignoring his frustration,

“You got it in one Professor. We mean to bring down the Government and that won’t happen if their insidious plan to test out their new weapon on St Kilda, and blame it on an earthquake, doesn’t go ahead. It will all be covered up as it invariably always is. We need to be there to witness it and capture the evidence and to show it to the world.”

“If all you want to do is collect vital evidence, then why all the military hardware? Why not camera equipment instead of
Metal Storm
assault weapons and explosives? What are you hoping to achieve by meeting violence with violence?” The Professor wiped away the perspiration that was collecting on his forehead. Itaridlë viewed him sympathetically before saying,

“I can’t provide you with any details of our mission, but what I can tell you is that we are not acting alone. There is a means to an end if that is what you are implying. There are others operating out there who share our knowledge and have the responsibility of gathering the evidence. It is our job to make sure that they are in a position to gather that evidence, if you see what I mean? Our job is to protect them. We all have our jobs to do Professor Burke and we all have our roles to play. We do not wish for anyone to get hurt but at the same time we are prepared to defend ourselves. If, on the other hand, you gave us the name of your contact, we could conduct our operation differently.”  The Professor bit his bottom lip and said,

“I can’t do that. I’m sorry but unfortunately once we get to Ullapool we must go our separate ways Itaridlë. I hope you achieve what you set out to do but more than that, I hope that no-one gets hurt in the process. There will be enough death and destruction to come.” Itaridlë smiled and put a hand on the Professor’s shoulder. The other Elfs looked on curiously. She returned their gazes and said in a deliberate manner,

“Over the next few days all will become clear and you will realise why I am unable to be candid with you at this point in time. I can truly understand why you are trying to undo a wrong which you have been caught up in, but you have done as much as you can, and now you should think of going home. We are indebted to you Professor, but now might be a good time to call it a day.” The Professor frowned. He looked at his feet and said,

“I have no home. I can’t go back. There is no going back, not after everything that has happened. I would rather die than spend a minute in one of those detention centres for political antagonists and those accused of terrorism, knowing that I didn’t raise a hand to stop the monster that I helped create. I have no option but to go on.”

The Professor turned to Itaridlë and looked into her brown eyes, fixed into a beautiful face, but he saw no hint of compassion or emotion. He was dubious about the sincerity of the eternal gratitude Itaridlë had expressed, and he couldn’t hide his disappointment that he wasn’t to be trusted with knowing the full extent of the Elfs plans. Doubtfully, he wondered how Itaridlë was aware that the control site had been moved. Clearly, she had access to her own intelligence gathering. He racked his brain for further information that would be of use and spent the next hour briefing Itaridlë on more of the technical details of the
Silent Wave
project.

Later Lúthien returned from the driver’s cabin and whispered something into Itaridlë’s ear. Itaridlë informed the Professor that they were being forced to take a diversion because of police road blocks on the main road north. He was given some lunch and a mug of hot green tea. He then fell asleep. The truck snaked its way through the west coast, the route via Glen Shiel, Torridon and the banks of Loch Maree, before finally arriving at the town of Ullapool. When Professor Burke woke, the truck was still and he was greeted by Inwë who provided him with a drink of water and a high energy snack bar. Finally, Itaridlë opened the hatch door to the rear of the vehicle and asked the Professor to step out.

Itaridlë surveyed the area. The town was busier than normal and the muffled sound of folk music came from a large blue tent to the north. Then wishing the Professor good luck, she shook his hand and said,

“You’ve arrived just in time for the Loopallu festival Professor. You should be able to blend with the crowd.” Itaridlë looked the Professor up and down and then said goodbye. He rubbed some life back into his buttocks He watched the truck move off, trundling slowly through the street lined with white cottage buildings and then out of town. Professor Burke was suddenly overwhelmed by his situation and a feeling of being alone and vulnerable. It had been a while since he had left the familiar confines of his London apartment. He felt detached from reality and the rest of the world, and though he knew that the Elves didn’t trust him, they were the only meaningful human contact he had experienced in the last few days, besides the bartender from the Splurge Bucket.

He crossed the road and walked towards a crowded bar called the Ferry Boat Inn. He decided that a quick malt whisky would sharpen his resolve. As he opened the bar door his sinuses were assaulted by a bitter and sulphurous odour. He turned and then he averted his gaze towards the dock. He could see a number of fishing vessels harboured in the distance, but one ship stood out from the others: a large, white ferry with the name “Andrea Starlight” printed in bold black letters on the hull. To his side the ticket office advertised a cruise to the Hebrides and St Kilda with a caption,
Witness the islands in all their majesty – see the last colony of puffins
. The Professor turned his gaze to his feet. There, on the ground, he watched in wonder as his shoe rested across the crack in the pavement. He left it resting there and smiled. It was late in the evening and the Professor made his way through the streets, treading on all the pavement cracks as he went and enquiring at various hotels about lodgings for the night. Finally, he found a room and bedded down for the night.

In the morning, after breakfast, he put his Tilley hat on, placed the strap of his leather satchel over his shoulder and started walking towards the dock. In his other hand was a bag which contained a survival suit and food rations that the Elves had given him. As he approached the Andrea Starlight he could hear the engines humming, but there was something different about the superstructure, it seemed peculiar to the Professor that there was no funnel. He wondered if the ship was one of the new hydrogen cell reactor vessels that he had read about in one of his science journals.

He noticed a group of catering staff enjoying a break. They were busy introducing themselves to each other and it was evident that the ship was unguarded. A brief but strange air of excitement came over as he ascended the gangplank. He tried to appear casual and entered the ship via the kitchens. He noticed a table with staff uniforms still inside their cellophane wraps and with without any hesitation he picked one up, opened it and slipped the clean, black uniform on over his garments. The Professor considered that they were a good fit even if the trousers were slightly tight around the crotch. And then Professor Burke heard voices. Two men entered the kitchen. One was a large black man with a chef’s hat. He was arguing with an officer. The Professor froze, his fists clenching at his side. The chef noticed him and stopped talking. He jabbed his forehead with an extended forefinger and shouted in a North American accent,

“Service staff have no business in the kitchens until I say so. Now, get your fanny out of here unless you want me to kick it for you. We only have six hours before our guests arrive and we still haven’t got my shipment of fresh salmon. Do you have any salmon for me? No? Then get the fuck out of my kitchen.” The Professor stood rooted to the spot, carrying a look of bafflement on his face. The chef turned to the officer and said,

“Is this what you’re sending me Purser? Old men to do a young man’s job? The Purser looked at the Professor’s name tag. He enquired politely,

“Malcolm? Oh, Malcolm Hoi Ying Li’ I take it? Everyone else has been accounted for so you must be Malcolm. I thought you were sick? Don’t mind the Chef. He’s all bark and no bite.” The Chef growled,

“I’ll bite your ass if you don’t get out of my fucking kitchen!”

Professor Burke’s eyes twitched nervously but he managed to regain his composure and in-between a faint cough, he stammered,

“I was ill but I’m much better now.” The Purser scratched his long beard and examined the Professor quizzically. Finally, he said,

“You better get that cough checked out by the ship’s doctor before you go anywhere. I don’t want you infecting the crew. I thought you said you had shingles or was that Craig? Anyway, we don’t have time for this so get to the doc, and then find Mr Healy who will show you your quarters. The Professor nodded and continued to stare at the two men until the Chef shouted,

“What are you waiting for cracker? Do you want a fucking letter posted to you with instructions? You heard the man, off with you and if I catch you malingering around in my kitchen again, without me expressly welcoming you in, which is highly unlikely, I’ll kick your fucking ass in.”

The Professor considered that this would be a good time to leave. He entered the outside deck and noticed a number of passengers congregating on the dock and fussing over their luggage. For a moment he turned his attention to one of the lifeboats and considered hiding until they were at sea. Eventually, he decided he had bluffed his way this far and now had nothing to lose. He went to find Mr Healy and later was shown to a room where he would share the voyage with three other workmates. To the Professor’s relief, placed on top of his bunk, was a folder with Malcolm Hoi Ying Li’s details enclosed within, and an employment contract which he was urged to sign immediately before handing it back to Mr Healy.

Later that morning, the Professor passed groups of passengers and crew in the passageway. He detected an excited buzz about the ship. He could hear a number of voices and different accents and languages from around the world. He was convinced the ship’s departure was imminent. Arriving at the dining area, he noticed a group of waiters all dressed in black but considerably younger than himself. Behind them was the bar. It was closed and on a barstool sat a giant of a man who asked in a polite but perceptible Mancunian accent when he could get a drink?